<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Pink Bandaids by UnicornFlowers (orphan_account)</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26365912">Pink Bandaids</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/UnicornFlowers'>UnicornFlowers (orphan_account)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kuroken because I Kurocan [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse, Angst with a Happy Ending, Coming Out, Hurt/Comfort, I swear to god this has a happy ending, I'm not crying shut your face, Kenma Is A Good Boyfriend, Kuroo deserves to be happy please let him smile, Love, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:42:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,124</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26365912</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/UnicornFlowers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What is her major? When are we going to meet her? Are you bringing her over some time? How tall is she? Are her parents wealthy? What are her hobbies? What is her eye color? Her, her, her. Tetsuro was almost at his breaking point with all the questions, and before he could gather up the intelligence to stop the words coming out of his mouth, Tetsuro was blurting out, </p><p>"She's not a she!" </p><p>☾</p><p>Warning: Abuse.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kuroken because I Kurocan [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1975318</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>193</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Pink Bandaids</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>♡♢</p><p>Tetsuro should've known better honestly.</p><p>He should've known better than to come out during a football game, while his dad was buzzed with the smallest bit of alcohol. The sour feeling of beer lowering his inhibitions, but his mind far from thinking irrationally, fully aware, and fully able to hear every word his son was saying. He should've known better than to mutter it under his breath like a taboo, like he used to when he would talk back to his parents as a child. He should've known better than to phrase it as though it was a known fact, something mundane. He just should've known better. But he was stupid. And he wasn't thinking like he should.</p><p>Tetsuro Kuroo had never really been one for football. He liked it well enough, but volleyball was his sport, which is why, instead of watching the football game his father was glued to and forcing his brother to watch, Tetsuro was in the kitchen, catching up with his mom.</p><p>Tetsuro loved his mom, he really did. And when he was a kid, he was completely one hundred percent honest with her because he wholeheartedly believed she would love him no matter what. He was sure of it. But things change, and even the most open of relationships can become closed because life is just a bitch sometimes. Like, for instance, even though Tetsuro had no problem discussing the wealth of girls he'd slept with (or according to his parents "dated") in high school over the years, he was certainly not going to tell her that he was now committed romantically (hopefully permanently) to his best friend growing up. It was just one of those things.</p><p>It was merely a matter of knowing his parents wouldn't agree with him. Because it was a sin. At least, according to them. That's what the bible said. So obviously, it was the word of god and the word of god was everything. So who was Tetsuro Kuroo to challenge that by having the audacity to have a boyfriend? But it wasn't a big thing, at least, Tetsuro justified it like that. At least, he never wanted it to be a big thing. Which is why he avoided the situation of having to talk about his love life at all costs. But it wasn't working very well.</p><p>"So, are there any lucky ladies, Tetsu?" The elder Kuroo son couldn't tell if he visibly tensed or not, but he could feel the anxiety pushing through his veins at her question. Immediately, Kenma came to mind. His soft, honey-colored eyes, his shy little kitten kisses pressed against Tetsuro's temple, his huffy little pouts when he got into a mood. All so very Kenma, all so very not female.</p><p>"Uh...not really. Kinda just trying to focus on school lately," The air in the room got tensed and he felt so estranged from his mother in that moment, like he was just meeting her, answering a question made for small talk, not for actual interest. And his answer was vague, content-less, but his mother accepted it as truth (thank whatever god they believed in). He didn't know exactly how his mother would react if she knew. He knew both his parents were rather religiously conservative. They were accepting and kind and everything goes accept for gay. That was their one hangup. You could be from any nationality, any ethnicity, any background and you were equal in their book- but no homo. No. You're gay, you're out. Period. End of sentence. He huffed out a sigh, trying not to dwell on the idea.</p><p>"Well, you know, I think you should relax a little. You're always working so hard and I just don't want you to be... alone. College is hard, and you shouldn't have to do it on your own," His mother's words were soft, but Tetsuro couldn't help the words pushing at the tip of his tongue, <em>I'm not. </em>"You're always so independent, but pretty girl, a nice girl, a smart girl, could be just what you need." <em>But I don't want a pretty girl. </em>"It doesn't have to be a love connection. I just know you like going out. <em>NOT </em>encouraging you to party your education away, of course. I'm just saying..."</p><p>Tetsuro nodded in understanding, not wanting the subject to drag on any more than it had to. The longer he had to pretend he was the perfect son his parents wanted to be, the longer he had to feel trapped in a dead lie. He almost caught himself wishing Kenma was there with him to make it all bearable before he remembered that he would get an earful from one or both of his parents. <em>It's just one day, </em>he reminded himself as he smiled at his mother in an attempt to seem normal, <em>and then you get to go home and see Kenma. </em>It was like his reward for being a good Christian son all day. </p><p>"Your mother's right," His dad interrupted, setting Tetsuro's nerves on edge again. He'd never had the most stable relationship with his father. They were always prone to breaking, getting into small arguments that exploded into big ones. But currently, they were okay. They were on somewhat even ground considering they weren't spending all day together. The distance was good for their relationship, if not a little nerve-wracking when Tetsuro actually visited. "You should start looking for <em>The One</em>." <em>I have. </em>"Oh really?"</p><p>"Uh..." <em>Fuck, did I say that out loud? Fuck. FUCK. Fuckfuckfuckfuck-</em></p><p>"Don't just uh, Tetsu!" His mother's expression was almost painfully happy as she set down her wine glass, a bright, almost angelic smile growing across her lips. Tetsuro Kuroo had never once wanted to curl up into a little ball and disappear forever more than he had in that moment. How was he supposed to explain this!? "What's her name?" </p><p>"Is she smart? Smart girls are the best kind, Tetsuro." </p><p>"What about pretty? I'm sure she's beautiful. You always did have good taste!" The former Nekoma captain cringed, trying not to give away too much. <em>Should I just make shit up? No, I'm not smart enough for that I'd fuck up...</em> But, of course, he couldn't just tell them about Kenma. He was backed into a corner of the worst kind. "Oh! Does she play volleyball too? Could we meet her sometime?"</p><p>What is her major? When are we going to meet her? Are you bringing her over some time? How tall is she? Are her parents wealthy? What are her hobbies? What is her eye color? <em>Her, her, her. </em>Tetsuro was almost at his breaking point with all the questions, and before he could gather up the intelligence to stop the words coming out of his mouth, Tetsuro was blurting out, </p><p><em>"She's not a she!"</em> </p><p>There was a moment of scary, stone-cold silence, in which his father just stared at him and his mother looked like she was about to pass out while his brother stood in the entryway to the kitchen, observing the whole ordeal. And Tetsuro's stomach dropped painfully. Oh god, he was so totally fucked forever. There was no repairing their relationship after this because having feelings for a guy was about the worst sin in the book for them. And Tetsuro thought it was horrible when the silence was thick and heavy, weighing on him. But it got so much worse when his father started to speak. </p><p>"I'm sorry, what?" There was no backing out now. There wasn't a single thing he could say that would reverse the damage that was done. He was fucked. He was totally fucked. And all he could do was stand there and watch his father's expression unravel from an easy smile into a deep grimace that sent a shiver down Tetsuro's spine. "Tetsuro Kuroo, what did you just say?" Tetsuro inhaled, forcing himself to remain calm. This was an issue, yes, but they could sort this out like adults. Would their relationship be the same after this? Obviously not. But was it a necessary part of his growth as a human being? Fucking probably. </p><p>"I said, <em>she isn't a she. </em>I'm...I'm dating a guy," It felt like a weight as heavy as the world itself was being lifted off his shoulders while the air was simultaneously being sucked from the room at a slow and steady pace. It was a relief to finally "come clean," so to speak,  after years of hiding his bisexuality beneath a steady stream of nameless one-night-stands. But it was horrible. The look they were giving him was horrible, like they didn't even recognize their own son anymore, like they were ashamed to even look at him. "I'm bisexual." </p><p>"No," His father said sternly as if it was something that he even had control over, much less acutally impacted his life. Why the hell did they even care? They only visited a couple of times a year anyway, so why should they care if the person he's dating has a dick or not? "No, you're not." A tidal wave of anger flowed through the older Kuroo brother. What the fuck was that? His dad didn't get a damn say over his sexuality. And the anger flowed through his words as much as he tried to stop it, an unstoppable flood of emotion as he grunted out,</p><p>"Um, yeah, dad, I am. I'm pretty sure I know better than you regarding my sexuality." </p><p>"No, you're not because my son doesn't fuck men," The vulgarity from his father's mouth was a shock, especially since curse words were something he'd been trained from a young age not to use. But he also couldn't say he was surprised. An issue as serious as this for his parents wasn't just going to play out calmly. He should've known. "Because my son knows that's a sin." <em>A sin. That's rich. </em></p><p>"A sin, hah, oh that's fucking great, <em>dad</em>. Well, hate to break the news like this, but I'm not as virtuous as you think," The words left his lips with sarcasm weighing them down before he had a chance to know better. </p><p>"I did not just hear you say that to me."</p><p>"You really did, actually. As a matter of fact, I don't even know why I'm still pretending to play by your stupid rules! Sins, right? You wanna talk sins? Well, I got drunk as all hell one time in high school and I'm pretty sure that was my first time kissing a dude," Tetsuro shrugged, the contempt slowly breaking down his filter. "And that night I told you I was taking Carmen Nori to prom, I was actually going with Kenma. Because newsflash: I'm in love with him! And Carmen was a <em>lesbian</em> but you liked her 'cause she was hot and played the piano. Oh! And, I didn't save myself for marriage! The train left the station a long fucking time ago! Obviously, I'm going to Hell-"</p><p>"TETSURO KUROO, THAT IS ENOUGH," But it wasn't enough, because his whole life he'd been tormented by this stupid fucking family that made him feel like he was wrong for even fucking existing. "You are disgusting. I don't even recognize you!" His father's knuckles blanched around the beer bottle in his hand, as if he could somehow channel all his anger into that one action. "In fact, I don't even think you're my <em>son</em> anymore!" </p><p>"Not your fucking son?!" Tetsuro lost it, slamming his hand down on the counter as he watched his father unravel before him, face twisting into an expression that was an ugly amalgamation of anger and something stronger, like seething contempt. "Not your FUCKING SON?! WHY BECAUSE I LIKE A GUY?! IS THAT SO FUCKING HORRIBLE THAT YOU'D-"</p><p>And then his father reached his breaking point. Like father like son, I guess. Only, Tetsuro would never be so cruel. </p><p>"YOU'RE NOT MY SON BECAUSE MY SON ISN'T A FUCKING FAG!"</p><p>The bottle came down on Tetsuro's face, glass shattering cutting into his skin before he had a chance to react. He didn't even know how he would react if he had the time. He'd never been in this situation before. He didn't know how he was supposed to move, how his face was supposed to look, though he could only assume that his expression was a mixture of pain and shock. And the pain felt so secondary. The sting of alcohol on the wounds that the broken beer bottle had inflicted felt almost numb and the shaking of Tetsuro's hands was a backdrop for the breaking feeling in his chest. And for a moment, nothing moved. His father stood like a statue, his mother held her trembling fingers to her lips as tears poured from her eyes, his brother just stopped in the doorway, stalk still, too much in shock to do much of anything.</p><p>And then time slowed down like molasses. This wasn't fair. None of this was fair. Why did he waste his entire life on this family? Why did his brother get to be loved just because he liked girls while Tetsuro got a beer bottle to the face and his father calling him a derogatory slur? Why did his mother get to cry while Tetsuro still had glass embedded in his cheekbone and a father who couldn't love him? Why was he still there? Why was he still laying there, on the ground, perched on his elbow with his hand shaking near his cheek, too scared to touch but unable to pull away?</p><p>But time couldn't stop forever. Like a slinky, it stretched, long and syrup slow until it suddenly snapped. His body reacted before his brain could shake itself out of being shocked, scrambling to his feet and flooding into the gorgeous grand foyer that felt to perfect for him to be standing in. Just like this family. He was out of place in his perfect family. His dad who was a successful CEO of his own company. His mom who was one of the leading neurosurgeons in the world, top of her field. His brother who was the captain of the debate team and on the soccer team and a star student who almost matched his older brother's grades. He was supposed to be the fourth piece of the puzzle. He was supposed to be the star student, the volleyball captain, the perfect older brother-</p><p>But he wasn't.</p><p>The keys to his father's black Sedan were torn from the side table as Tetsuro ripped open the front door. It was a dark summer night and the only reason Tetsuro could even find the car he was looking for among the virtual maze of expensive vehicles around their culdesac driveway was thanks to the houselights that bounced off every surface. It was already hard enough to see with dark blood staining the corner of his vision, the added stress of hearing his family's footsteps following closely behind him wasn't making it any easier.</p><p>He could hear his mother's voice, calling him,"Tetsu! Wait, Tetsu!" <em>No, no you don't get to call me that anymore. Stop. </em>He could hear his brother's sobbing from the doorway, his dad's yelling, though he didn't have the energy to process the words he was saying as adrenaline pumped through his system at a rapid rate. Maybe he was angry that he was stealing his car, maybe he was apologizing, Tetsuro didn't give a flying fuck either way. He just wanted to get out. <em>Let me go. Let me go. Let me GO. LET ME GO.</em></p><p>Tetsuro almost ripped the door off its hinges, sliding into the car and slamming it shut behind him with a painfully loud sound. And he wanted to break down right there in the safety of the car behind locked doors, but his father was slamming his hands against the window and his mother was crying as she tugged limply on his shoulder and his brother was still sobbing like the world was falling apart and Tetsuro couldn't <em>breathe</em>. He couldn't breathe. He just needed out. Was that too much to ask for? So he slammed his foot on the pedals, forcing his parents to take startling steps away from the vehicle as he recklessly reversed out of the driveway.</p><p>And Tetsuro didn't consciously know where he was intending to go, but muscle memory served him well as he pushed the speed limit, turning familiar corners and taking familiar roads that all lead to the one place he knew he would be safe. <em>Kenma. </em>He wanted to call him, he wanted to hear his voice and cry into the microphone and beg him to still be awake despite the ungodly hour, but it was already hard enough to think with the stinging in his eye and the blood coating his vision and the adrenaline making him shake uncontrollably. And he didn't want to skid off the road and become another tragedy of clouded mind. Though he was very well on his way to being one.</p><p>☾</p><p>Kenma didn't like being woken up in the middle of the night because it always, one hundred percent of the time, fucked up his sleep schedule. Once he was awake, he couldn't even think about closing his eyes again and would probably end up doing a three a.m Livestream that a disturbingly large amount of people would watch. That or he would stay awake staring at the ceiling for hours wondering if it was possible to die of sleep deprivation. </p><p>And tonight wasn't any different. At least, it seemed that way. Tonight, as he was awoken by a knock on his door that likely only sounded loud thanks to the hour, he still grumped and pouted and released a huff of frustration. He still dragged his feet as he pulled on one of his boyfriend's hoodies (he would wear his own, but that was no fun). He still plastered on the most sarcastic expression he could manage. But his frustration disappeared almost immediately as he opened the door. </p><p>"Tetsu...?" Kenma's voice was soft against the backdrop of silence that surrounded them. His boyfriend was half-hidden in shadows, head dropped, dead still in the hallway. So, despite his tired eyes begging him to keep the lights off for the sake of his sanity, he flipped them on, bating them both in warm light. "Tetsuro what's- Oh my god." </p><p>There weren't really any good words to describe what Tetsuro Kuroo looked like so defeated, with blood dripping down one side of his face, eyes hollow and glassy with small tears. It was horrible, painful. And it wasn't Tetsuro. Tetsuro Kuroo was sly and energetic and charming and a little bit sleazy though it suited him well. He wasn't speechless and crying on Kenma's doorstep at an ungodly hour of the night with blood staining the recently cleaned carpet of the hallway. It felt so wrong. And Kenma wanted to ask him who'd done this to him, he wanted to ask what had happened, he wanted to ask who would dare hurt him, but Tetsuro wasn't talking, so Kenma didn't. Because talking wasn't the biggest priority when his boyfriend was shaking and bleeding crimson and crying and...and he just looked so scared that it felt like the air in Kenma's lungs was leaving him. </p><p>Kenma took his boyfriend's hand which was cold despite the summer heat, tugging him inside his apartment and closing the door behind them, locking it for good measure. And as he pulled Tetsuro toward his kitchen, he swallowed roughly, his chest aching at how soullessly the taller man followed along, like he didn't even have a mind of his own. Like he'd forgotten how to do much more than stare off into space. Even as Kenma gently leaned his boyfriend against the kitchen island, Tetsuro wouldn't look at him, eyes cast downward shamefully, his brain stumbling over the past few hours, wondering where he'd gone wrong, what he'd said in particular that caused all of this. </p><p>Tetsuro didn't look at Kenma as he gently wiped the blood from Tetsuro's face with a damp washcloth, being extra gentle around the wounded areas where he saw minuscule shards of glass still embedded. It made Kenma's heart stop and tears push at the back of his eyes, but he swallowed the aching feeling. He wasn't going to make Tetsuro comfort him right now. That was his job. And neither of them spoke because Tetsuro didn't trust his voice to come out properly and Kenma wasn't going to push him to say anything he didn't want to. </p><p>So Kenma cleaned him up in silence. In soft, tender silence, he used a pair of tweezers to painstakingly remove every last shard of glass that made him flinch in pain. And when he was done, he laid the blood-covered instrument on the counter before throwing the pieces of bloodstained glass away along with the towel they rested on, disposing of the painful memory. All of this in silence, gentle, compassionate silence, permeated by love and care, but silence. </p><p>And they stayed in silence until Kenma began to press small bandaids to Tetsuro's wounds, flinching every time he did because it hurt him to watch Tetsuro's pain manifest visibly on his features. The bandaids were bright and colorful in pink and blue and green and purple. And they had little hearts and stars and diamonds on them, but since Kenma rarely ever got injured, he'd never had a need to purchase extra medical supplies. </p><p>"Sorry about the bandaids. These are the only ones I have. They're from Shouyou," Kenma said, barely a whisper as he pressed a pink bandaid to his boyfriend's cheekbone. That earned him a beautiful half-smile and the smallest ghost of a laugh that he might've missed if there were any other sounds in the apartment. And he wanted Tetsuro to be happy again, to be laughing and smiling like he normally did, he would do anything for it. But for now, until Tetsuro felt like smiling and laughing like he normally did, a half-smile and the ghost of a laugh would be enough. </p><p>But he still didn't look at Kenma. And that hurt, like a thousand knives cutting into his chest all at once, but it wasn't his choice to make. The former Nekoma captain would do it all when he wanted to. </p><p>When Kenma finished the patchwork of bandaids that littered Tetsuro's face in randoms displays of bright color, he breathed out a sigh, finally bringing both hands to cup the sides of his boyfriend's face. And, to his surprise, the taller boy actually leaned into the touch, pressing his uninjured cheek against Kenma's soft hand, even bringing up his own calloused fingers to clasp around Kenma's, holding him in place as if he was worried the smaller boy might disappear. </p><p>Kenma took this as a positive sign, even daring to place the softest, feather-light kiss to the corner of Tetsuro's eye, gentle against his temple. And Tetsuro reacted almost suddenly, wrapping a strong arm around his boyfriend's waist and pulling him impossibly closer, ignoring the sting of his injuries as he dipped his head into the crook of Kenma's neck. Kenma almost jolted at the sudden surge of movement but quickly relaxed against his boyfriend's body, breathing out a sigh of relief that Tetsuro, <em>his Tetsuro, </em>was back. </p><p>When Kenma finally gathered up the courage to give the smallest, gentlest shove on his boyfriend's shoulders, Tetsuro released him reluctantly. As much as Kenma would like to, they couldn't just stand there all night. Plus, Tetsuro was freezing, which was probably more due to the adrenaline still pumping through his body at an unfathomable rate. Which is why Kenma went through all the effort of spending what must've been a good three minutes searching around the top shelf blindly for his desired two objects on his tiptoes. Kenma was a coffee person, so the top shelf was strictly reserved for drinks Tetsuro liked. Because he was the only one able to reach them. </p><p>"Tea or cocoa?" Kenma said finally as he turned around with two drink mixes in his hands. His boyfriend gave the smallest sarcastic smirk, raising a singular eyebrow as he informed Kenma,</p><p>"Hot chocolate is a winter drink." Kenma suppressed the urge to spit out a sarcastic comment. Usually, he'd be all for it, but Tetsuro was walking the fine line of falling apart, being held together completely by the bandaids splayed across his face like freckles. So Kenma held it back,  channeling the energy it would normally take into a small, genuine smile.</p><p>"So no then?" Tetsuro released a small gasp in mock offense as he put a hand limply over his heart. Kenma could still see the fatigue gripping his boyfriend, but the smile on his face erased all of that completely, or more accurately, it outshined it. Because it was a genuine smile. Maybe not the gaping, fuckboy grin he was used to, but it was a smile. And that's all Kenma really wanted from Tetsuro. A smile. </p><p>"No, absolutely yes," The taller boy said, gesturing vaguely to the hot chocolate in his boyfriend's hands, eliciting a warm smile and a <em>"Weirdo," </em>that held no bite behind it before Kenma proceeded to start preparing the necessary ingredients for hot chocolate. </p><p>"If you want to go get changed while you're waiting, some of your clothes are still in the bottom drawer," Kenma informed him gently as he poorly measured out milk into a measuring cup. Any sort of food or drink-making was Tetsuro's strong suit, not his, but Kenma wasn't going to mention that because tonight was about making him feel comfortable, letting him know just how loved he was. The taller boy just nodded in response before reluctantly leaving his boyfriend's side and venturing to the bedroom.</p><p>They had never officially discussed Tetsuro moving in, but it was happening slowly. He already had a spare key to Kenma's apartment and, over the course of a few months, his clothes and belongings had slowly been left behind to mesh with the aesthetic of the place, turning it into something else entirely. His sweatshirts and hoodies were being left on furniture, never to be returned as Kenma used them to protect himself from the cold. His t-shirts were being stolen. He even had a whole drawer that Kenma had dedicated purely to clothing Tetsuro had left behind. Really the only step they had yet to get to was making it official. </p><p>When Tetsuro returned after changing into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, he was warmed to find Kenma sitting on the kitchen island next to two cups of hot choclate, feet dangling over the edge. The expression on the smaller boy's face said all Tetsuro really needed to know about what he was going to say next, and he released a preemptive sigh. </p><p>"What happened, Tetsu?" Kenma didn't want to dance around the subject forever. He didn't want to push Tetsuro to the point of discomfort, but he also couldn't just ignore it forever. Eventually, they had to talk about it. And Kenma knew his boyfriend. He knew that, with Tetsuro Kuroo, if you didn't get it out of him within twenty-four hours of it happening, it didn't happen. It was a secret locked away forever, never to be spoken about. Tetsuro just bit his lip, trying to find the least words possible to describe the event that had just shattered his world. </p><p>"I came out to my dad and he hit me with a beer bottle," He finally decided, thanking his body for being out of tears to cry. It still made his chest ache and his fingers go numb, but the fear wasn't there. The fear of talking, of speaking. He thanked Kenma for that part. Kenma, unlike his father, his mother, his brother, never made him feel afraid to speak, never made him scared to voice the few thoughts in his head that went unvocalized. It was why he was Tetsuro's best friend and the man he loved. </p><p>"Do you want to talk about it?" That was another thing he loved about Kenma. Nothing he said was ever cursory. He didn't waste words. He said what he meant and though some people thought he was being an asshole, that he was being dry, Tetsuro knew it was all in his tone. He didn't have to say, 'I'm sorry' because the sadness, the love he felt for his boyfriend spilled over in his tone, in the way his voice curled around each syllable. </p><p>Tetsuro just walked up to his boyfriend, placing his calloused hands on either side of the smaller boy. His expression was earnest and genuine, soft, like he was silently pleading with Kenma even though he knew he didn't need to. Kenma wasn't going to deny him this. </p><p>"Can we watch Godzilla instead?" Tetsuro asked, whispered as his eyes scanned Kenma's face for any hint of annoyance or discontentment. There was none, just the silent promise that Tetsuro Kuroo was more loved than he could express in words. And Tetsuro was exponentially grateful for his boyfriend in that moment. Because he couldn't handle talking about it. In time, he'd get whatever words were trapped in his chest to voice themselves. In a longer time, he'd be able to talk about it like it was just another lost match or a bad injury he'd gotten during practice. But right now, it was raw and fleshy, only covered by the pink and purple bandaids on his face. </p><p>"Yeah, we can watch Godzilla instead."</p><p>And that's what they did. They watched Godzilla and drank hot chocolate while Tetsuro kept his arms wrapped tightly around Kenma. Because Kenma was the only one keeping him grounded. Kenma was the only person who made him feel so loved and happy. His honey-golden eyes and the soft scent of vanilla that lingered on him and the kisses, light like stardust, he occasionally feathered across his boyfriend's face gave him the truest feeling of home one could experience. </p><p>So it wasn't okay that Tetsuro's family couldn't love him. And it wasn't okay that his dad called him such a horrible, demeaning word. It wasn't okay that his father had hit him in the face with a beer bottle. It wasn't okay, and it would never be <em>okay. </em>But Tetsuro knew that, with time, the ache would heal. And in time, all he would remember from this night was the way Kenma jumped at loud noises in the movie, the sweet taste of warm chocolate on his lips, and the pink bandaids. </p><p> </p><p>☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>